


Hjalmprimul: The Battle of Mind

by Empress_of_Plotbunnies



Series: Hjalmprimul [2]
Category: Norse Religion & Lore, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, I Don't Even Know, I cannot remain in one point of view to save my life, Insomnia!, Jane lovers beware, Other, and anything that would make this even slightly realistic, and canon, complete disregarding of timelines, identity crisis, mangling of myths, wow this is kind of heavy, yay half-assed epic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empress_of_Plotbunnies/pseuds/Empress_of_Plotbunnies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not every battle is fought with swords and shields and arrows.<br/>Some are fought within the mind.<br/>These battles, however, are no less damaging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hjalmprimul: The Battle of Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah... I've had this complete sitting on my computer since June. The 'you're a fuck up' part of my brain decided to show its nasty goblin-y little face once-a-fucking-again. Jesus. I am so sorry. I know I promised it would be up before June or July (?), but since I didn't specify which year, technically this could be counted as early...No? Damn. Tough crowd.  
> As always, feel completely free to point out my mistakes. I'm sure there a lot of them, as most everything I write is written at three in the morning. All of them are mine as I don't have a beta(anyone willing? Maybe try and kick my ass into gear every once in a while so my account doesn't become a string of half-finished stories and a bunch of terribly punny comments?).

Darcy Lewis is no longer her name.  
Her name is richer, older, and much more powerful, flowing off the tongue like a bitter, silky wine.  
Her name is Hjalmprimul.  
And she is done hiding who she is.  
  
She has her wings back now, massive red-black feathered things that drag as she walks. Armor, too; crimson metal polished till it shines like the fresh blood of an enemy. A sword that sings a song that only a few can hear, long as her thigh; a sword forged in magic, one that will always return to its master.  
But she does not have everything she had before her banishment. As punishment for showing her true form to humans, she will never regain her place among the Valkyrja. Hjalmprimul is forever cursed to roam the realms, protecting those she put in danger. Her beloved sisters refuse to acknowledge her. The thing she loved most in the world, choosing those who were worthy of Valhalla from the gloriously bloody battlefields, is lost to her till the next Ragnarok destroys all but the two beings who will begin the new generation.  
She can never again watch from the sidelines the brutal, bloodstained plays orchestrated by plump, foolish men with a hunger for power. She must perform them, hoping her acting is convincing enough that her critic shield-sisters will write a good review.  
Still, at least she has her beloved Thor.  
  
Erik stood in the middle of the burning, cracked street with Jane in his arms, watching as the girl with the cat sweater and chunky glasses stood in the way of certain death.  
Darcy hovered inches above the ground, not appearing to have been suspended by anything visible. She was motionless, silent…Blank. Such a lively person looked wrong with such a cold expression.  
Suddenly, her eyes opened.  
They were not blue.  
They glowed red.  
  
Jane watched as her annoying assistant glided toward the Transformer-dragon hybrid. Her dark hair streamed out behind her, like a miniature cape. Thor appeared frozen. In disbelief or terror, Jane couldn’t tell which.  
“You are not human.” The Transformer-dragon hybrid hummed somehow.  
“No, Destroyer. I am Hjalmprimul, loyal Valkyrja to the Lady Frigga.” A voice that spoke with Darcy’s mouth but was most definitely not hers hissed. The voice was the tongues of a thousand snakes, the fluttering of millions of raven’s wings, the sound of the wilderness growing. It was a fire in a forest wracked with drought, consuming everything in its path with a speed and ferocity unmatched by anything else on Earth. It wasn’t smooth, like a silent lake at night, no; it was gold melted flat over the shards of fallen civilizations and the shattered bones of humanity.  
“And I am to be your ruin.”  
  
We must protect them.  
I can’t—  
Yes, you can.  
I’m only human, I don’t know how—  
You have always been more, Darcy. You’ve known since those humans found you.  
This is crazy. I’m not hearing voices, this is just my imagination—  
I am Hjalmprimul. You are Darcy. We are the same.  
That’s crazy talk. Shut up.  
There is a god and a metal being that breathes fire right in front of you. Why am I so hard to believe?  
Because I’m just Darcy Lewis, poli-sci major, wise-cracking intern of Jane Foster and pseudo-daughter of a crazy Swedish scientist named Erik Selvig, not Yam Prima or whatever!  
Hjalmprimul. Or Hjorprimul, I don’t care. I am a Valkyrie of Asgard, Wife of Thor and—  
Wife?!  
Why was I cursed with the mad human? Yes, wife, Elizabeth Darcy Lewis. Of Thor Odinson, the Great Thunderer.  
Oh, God. Let’s just…Okay, let’s say, hypothetically, that you’re actually a mythic being of legend and I’m your host, and I have your powers.  
Yes. Hypothetically.  
Ignoring that. So, hypothetically, what am I supposed to do?  
I have already told you this, fool. Protect the innocents.  
Great. How do I do that?  
Like this.  
  
It couldn’t be…  
Darcy was merely the assistant of the Lady Jane, wasn’t she? Just another infuriatingly foolish mortal.  
So why was she so familiar?  
“That can’t be her.” Fandral said.  
“She was banished to Midgard. It is possible. Unlikely, but possible.” Sif said.  
“She’s speaking.” Hogun said.  
“You’re speaking.” Fandral mumbled, but went silent. Sif followed his lead.  
  
She thinks that it would be a bit romantic, if her fall from power had been the fault of anything other than her own folly. That it would be a tragedy, a sad thing told to warn of the evils of something other than the own personal war all of us fight.  
But it was not. Her humanization, for lack of a more dramatic and descriptive term, was her own fault. She thought she could do more than what she truly could and as a result, she ruined lives. She thinks that maybe she could have become yet another famous martyr of history. She is not. She is just another imperfection in the history of Asgard. She is the statue lying in pieces at the feet of the Valkyrja.  
Hjalmprimul will not become another Juliet to the humans.  
She will become the second fallen Asgardian to protect Midgard from all who would harm it.  
After all, doesn’t she always follow Thor?  
  
They call her a hero, and expect her to act like one.  
She is no hero.  
All she is is a foolish immortal, cursed to roam the Realms until the end of time(or, rather, this time). She could be a hero, be a martyr, an idiot idealist, another benevolent goddess come down to save Midgard from ruin. But she will not be a hero. She cannot be a hero. She isn’t made of the same stuff as the Captain, as the Man of Iron, as Thor. She doesn’t have the capacity to be like them. Even Loki protects the mortals, regrettably reformed as he is.  
Hjalmprimul was always smarter than that, than thinking mortals had the potential to be worth saving. Than believing in a cause simply to believe. Than clenching her morals so tightly that she stayed the same forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Who'd I mess up? Who'd I do halfway decent? Did it make any sort of sense at all? Were there any tense changes or misused words? Any ideas for a sequel? Do you WANT a sequel (three-quel?)Hit me up at my tumblr, still empressofplotbunnies.


End file.
